


The Men in Apartment 22B

by jjmash



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Cute, M/M, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29521173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjmash/pseuds/jjmash
Summary: Andrew and Neil's new neighbors are extremely confused about the two mysterious men in 22B. Are they dating? Are they in the mafia? Are they rival assassins who've fallen in love? As always, the truth is stranger than fiction.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 9
Kudos: 317





	The Men in Apartment 22B

**Author's Note:**

> This word vomited out of me today and hasn't been edited at all, so have fun with all the typos.

Tabitha first heard about the mysterious new resident in 22B from Mrs. Miller who, in the grand tradition of elderly ladies everywhere, always had the best gossip.

“He’s a tiny little thing, with the blondest hair you’ve ever seen and a terrible scowl,” Mrs. Miller whispered conspiratorially in the hallway, her watery eyes wide behind her purple reading glasses. “There’s something a bit off about that one, probably better to steer clear, dear.”

And then she’d proceeded to report on the sorry state of Mr. Brown’s terrace tomato plants and try (for the third time that month) to set Tabitha up with her bridge partner’s sister’s nephew, who was apparently a very successful orthodontist.

Tabitha herself didn’t see her new neighbor for another three weeks, and even then it was only a glimpse of his profile as he disappeared into the stairwell. _He’s really going to walk up all those flights of stairs,_ she marveled to herself as she unlocked her mailbox. Tabitha was very much a hold-the-elevator-please kind of girl.

Mrs. Miller was right in her description of the man as “tiny,” given that he couldn’t have been much taller than a flat five feet. He was also young – probably younger than Tabitha herself, who tried not to think about how she could now technically be described as being in her late twenties.

Tabitha’s first thought was that he was probably a college student, but what would a college student be doing in a penthouse apartment in the middle of Chicago? They weren’t close enough to any campuses for it to be an easy commute, although if he could afford 22B then he was probably rich enough to have a car. Tabitha looked down at her own stack of bills and sighed as she closed her mailbox. Must be nice not to have any student loans, she thought glumly.

Mrs. Miller caught Tabitha on her way out of the building a week later, clearly looking to unload some fresh gossip. 

“That new boy in 22B? He had a young man over who was here all weekend! And he comes and goes at the oddest times. You know how I always take Pippa out for an early walk, well I’ve seen him leaving at 5 am nearly every day for the past two weeks!”

“Hmm,” Tabitha responded, torn between a desire to know more and not wanting to encourage the rumor mill that Mrs. Miller seemed to be single-handedly running. As usual, the side of her that had an unhealthy obsession with reality TV won out. “Do you know what he does for a living?”

Mrs. Miller frowned. “No, every time I try to introduce myself he practically runs away!”

Privately, Tabitha didn’t really blame him; no one wanted to be subjected to one of Mrs. Miller’s “neighborly” interrogations. Tabitha spent her ten minute walk to the coffee shop inventing increasingly imaginative backstories for the man in 22B, ranging from mafia involvement to secret gay assassin in love with his target. Then she got to the front of the coffee line and all thoughts not related to her caffeine fix flew right out of her mind.

Tabitha trudged into the elevator after a long day of dealing with egotistical coworkers and impossible clients, eager to flop down on her couch with a glass of wine and never move again. She barely withheld a groan when a hand reached out just as the doors were about to close, effectively keeping her from the immediate sanctuary of her tiny studio apartment. To her surprise, the hand belonged to the man from 22B, whose other arm was wrapped tightly around a smiling, petite young woman. 

“Oh!” Tabitha exclaimed, slightly too loud for the small enclosed space. “You just moved into 22B, right?”

The blonde man frowned. “No, I’m his brother.” He didn’t sound particularly happy about it.

“They’re twins!” The woman with him said perkily, a cute little grin stretched across her pretty face. “This is Aaron, and I’m Katelyn, his fiancee.”

Tabitha shook her offered hand, smiling tentatively. “Nice to meet you, I’m Tabitha.”

“Have you lived here long?”

“Only for a year or so, but it’s a great building.”

Katelyn beamed at her and nudged the man beside her playfully. “See, it’s a good building! He’ll be fine here.”

Tabitha looked at the deep scowl on Aaron’s face and couldn’t help feeling that his brother’s wellbeing was probably not a top priority for him, but she supposed Katelyn knew him better than she did. Maybe they were the kind of brothers who pretended to hate each other for the sake of their masculinity but secretly loved one another; as an only child it wasn’t like Tabitha was an expert on sibling relationships.

Aaron sort of nodded at her as she stepped off the elevator at her floor, Katelyn offering a much friendlier goodbye. It wasn’t until she was already two hours deep in her Mob Wives marathon that Tabitha realized she still didn’t know the name of the man in 22B.

Mrs. Miller had another update for Tabitha when she ran into her in the laundry room several weeks later. Tabitha had still yet to interact with her new neighbor, but Mrs. Miller seemed to be working double time to keep the rest of the building informed of his comings and goings.

“Last week I saw him leaving with a suitcase and he didn’t come back for three days. I tried to sneak a peek at his luggage tag but I couldn’t make out his name, my eyesight has gotten so bad lately.”

“He has a twin brother,” Tabitha said idly, too focused on measuring out her laundry detergent to consider the ramifications of dropping this information bomb on Mrs. Miller.

“A twin! Have you been talking to him? Do you know his name?”

Tabitha cursed herself inwardly; there was no way Mrs. Miller would leave her to peacefully finish her load now. “No, I didn’t get his name. His brother is Aaron, though, and I’m pretty sure they’re identical.”

It was another half hour before Tabitha was able to finally extricate herself from Mrs. Miller’s questioning, escaping into the elevator with a sigh of relief only to find it already occupied by the very subject of the conversation she had just fled. 

The small man was slumped against one of the handrails in a way that made it impossible to reach the elevator buttons without stepping into his personal space. If it were anyone else, Tabitha would’ve just gone for it, but something about him screamed “stay away.” 

After a brief moment of hesitation, Tabitha asked, “Could you push ten for me please?”

The man complied wordlessly, and Tabitha was faced with the world’s slowest, most silent elevator ride. As they dinged past the second floor, Tabitha finally gave in to her Midwestern urge to make small talk. 

“Are you in 22B?”

The man just nodded at her, his face oddly blank. She tried not to stare too obviously at the black bands that wound up his forearms – to differentiate himself from his brother, maybe? 

“I’m on ten,” Tabitha said, then cringed inwardly when she remembered that she’d literally just told him that when she asked him to press the button for her floor. Deciding that she might as well go for it now that she’d already embarrassed herself, she said, “I’m Tabitha. What’s your name?”

The man looked over at her suspiciously. “Andrew,” he said simply. His voice was deeper than she’d expected from such a small body, and something about its smoothness and lack of intonation sent goosebumps down her spine.

Tabitha wasn’t upset when the doors slid open on the tenth floor and she got to leave the man – Andrew – behind.

**_Crenshaw 10th Floor Neighbors Group_ **

_BIG NEWS.MAN MOVING INTO 22B._

_Mrs. Miller I think your caps lock might be turned on again_

_WHAT_

_You need to press the up arrow to turn it off_

_ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THOSE SMILEY FACE THINGS_

_The up arrow on your phone keyboard, next to the ‘z’ key_

_WHAT_

According to Mrs. Miller, the new man in 22B wasn’t replacing Andrew but rather moving in with him. This revelation kicked off a flurry of debate among the neighbors about the nature of the two men’s relationship; they didn’t look similar enough to be related, but whether or not they were partners was a central point of contention.

Personally, Tabitha couldn’t imagine Andrew even being friends with another person, much less dating someone. But her mother had always told her that she was too quick to form opinions of others, so Tabitha tried to reserve judgement until she could see them together. 

She got her first glimpse of the new man on her way to a ridiculously early morning yoga class that her girlfriend had somehow convinced her to try. He was a few paces in front of her in the lobby and it took her still-groggy brain a few minutes to recognize that he must be the new addition to 22B; the building was small enough that she knew just about everyone else.

The man was taller than Andrew but not by much, and she was glad that he was mostly turned away from her so he didn’t see her shock when she caught sight of the scars on his face in the reflection of the lobby doors. There were circular burn marks scattered across his cheeks with a few deep slashes thrown in for good measure, and she shuddered to think of what could’ve left scars like those. Suddenly her earlier theories about mob bosses and assassins didn’t seem so implausible.

She hustled out onto the sidewalk as quickly as possible, eager to put some distance between her and the new neighbor, but she paused when he didn’t seem to move beyond the front step of the apartment building. The bewildered expression on his face as he stared down the street first in one direction and then the other inspired a surge of sympathy in Tabitha. She remembered what it had been like those first few days after she’d moved to Chicago from her tiny Indiana hometown, how utterly overwhelming she had found the city. 

Her mouth was opening before she could think about it, and she asked, “Do you need directions somewhere?”

He looked over at her in surprise, his features falling into the same mildly suspicious expression that Andrew had in the elevator the day that she attempted small talk.

Seemingly deciding that she was safe to speak to, he said, “I’m just looking for somewhere to get coffee.”

Tabitha smiled at him – coffee she could do. “I’m heading to a place now, actually. Best lattes in the neighborhood, if you want to come with.”

And that was how she ended up walking shoulder to shoulder with one of the mysterious residents of 22B at six am on a Sunday. His name was Neil, apparently, and he’d moved to Chicago from South Carolina for work. 

“So why are you up so early in the morning? Early riser?”

Neil looked a little bashful. “Just used to it, I guess. I have trouble sleeping sometimes.”

She wanted to ask if his trouble sleeping had anything to do with the intense scarring on his face (and it was actually quite a handsome face despite the scars, now that she could see it clearly), but she would never dare to ask something so personal of a near stranger. Instead she just hummed and turned the conversation toward easier topics like the weather, a staple of small talk among good Midwesterners everywhere.

Before they went their separate ways, Tabitha managed to glean a few tidbits of information that were sure to send Mrs. Miller into a tizzy when she heard them. She still didn’t know what Andrew or Neil actually did that allowed them to afford a penthouse apartment or exactly what their relationships was, but she did know that Andrew’s brother and his fiancee lived in the area, and they had a close group of friends from college that was now scattered across the country. Neil didn’t talk about Andrew like a person who was in love, but then again he seemed to be neutral about pretty much every topic they touched on; it was almost like he was purposely avoiding having any opinions at all. 

The stoicism was comfortable for Tabitha, who’d been raised by a family of reserved Lutherans, but she had an odd desire to peel back the obvious facade that Neil was putting on. He and Andrew were like a massive jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces, and Tabitha had always enjoyed a challenge.

The next time Tabitha saw Neil, he was clambering out of the passenger side of a large, expensive-looking SUV that was pulled up in front of the building, his movements made clumsy by the black walking boot that encased his right foot. A flash of blonde indicated that Andrew was in the driver’s seat, and he peeled away from the curb the second that Neil slammed his door closed. 

It looked like the tail end of a fight to Tabitha, but Neil’s expression was as pleasantly blank as always. He was wearing a backpack and carrying what looked like a gym bag, his hair untidy where it curled over the collar of his bright orange “PSU” sweatshirt. 

“Hey, Neil,” Tabitha greeted him, trying not to look too eager to talk to him. Even from her very limited interactions with Neil, Tabitha had already gotten the impression that he was the kind of person you had to tread carefully around or you’d run the risk of scaring him off. She’d seen him accosted by Mrs. Miller one day in the lobby, and the sheer panic on his face as the old woman peppered him with increasingly personal questions had been kind of funny to witness.

“Hi Tabitha. How’s it going?” Neil was always polite in a very distant sort of way. Not like Andrew, who seemed content to speak as little as possible regardless of what social conventions required for the situation.

“Pretty good. What’d you do to your leg?”

Neil sighed a little as he held the door open for her and waved her into the lobby. “I sprained my ankle this morning, not a big deal.”

Tabitha nodded, privately wondering how he’d injured it but not brave enough to ask. “Was that Andrew giving you a ride?”

“Yeah, we work together.”

There it was, the perfect opening to finally find out what the two men did for a living. But just as Tabitha was about to ask, Neil disappeared into the stairway with a casual wave. Tabitha cursed under her breath, trying to decide whether it was worth following him to continue the conversation. Ultimately her laziness won out over her curiosity, and she sighed as she pressed the elevator call button instead.

Tabitha regretted volunteering for the annual building holiday party planning committee almost immediately. It was a mess of clashing personalities and retirees who took their party planning responsibilities far too seriously, leaving Tabitha wondering when her life had turned into an episode of The Office. 

The one benefit to being on the committee was getting to peek into the other residents’ apartments when she hand delivered their party invites. Tabitha was seemingly unable to resist the opportunity to pass judgement on other people’s interior design choices, probably thanks to the several hundred hours of House Hunters that she'd consumed over the course of her life.

By the time she knocked on the door of Neil and Andrew’s penthouse apartment, which she’d intentionally saved for last, Tabitha was practically bubbling over with anticipation. 

Neil opened the door looking rumpled and tired, and Tabitha wondered if she’d woken him up. It was six in the evening, but he had said he had trouble sleeping. What if this was his nap time or something?

Neil interrupted Tabitha’s silent fretting. “Hey,” he said, sounding surprised but thankfully not annoyed to see her.

“Hi! I have invitations for you and Andrew, for the building holiday party.” She winced internally at how peppy she sounded; she’d slipped into her customer service voice unintentionally.

“Okay.” Neil shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable. “Do you want to come in for a second? Andrew isn’t here, he’s still at the gym.”

“Yeah, sure!” Tabitha hoped she didn’t sound too excited.

She glanced around the apartment surreptitiously as Neil led her to the living room; as expected, it was far larger than her tiny shoebox studio and it had a breathtaking view of Chicago that stretched all the way to the lake in the distance. The interior, however, was not at all what she’d expected of two men living alone, although she usually tried her best not to buy into gender stereotypes. The decor was sleek and modern, expensive but still homey enough that she wasn’t too intimidated to take a seat on the plush leather couch in the middle of the living room.

“Nice place,” she said approvingly as Neil sat down in the recliner to her right, propping his injured foot up on the matching ottoman. 

He looked around as though seeing the apartment for the first time, apparently taken aback by the compliment.

“Oh thanks,” he said finally, “our friend Allison is really into this sort of stuff, she did most of it.”

“Is she an interior designer?” Tabitha asked, not that it looked like she’d be able to afford her services herself.

Neil squinted at her suspiciously. “No, she’s a fashion designer. Allison Reynolds?”

Tabitha smiled politely; she’d never heard that name before, but that didn’t mean much considering how generally ignorant she was when it came to high fashion. 

She let her eyes continue to wander around the apartment until they came to rest on what she was pretty sure was an elaborate cat climbing structure in the shape of a castle.

“You have a cat?” Tabitha asked, surprised.

“Two,” Neil replied.

“What are their names?”

Neil didn’t even pause before he said, “Sir Fat Cat McCatterson and King Fluffkins.”

Tabitha couldn’t help the burst of laughter that erupted from her lips, slapping a hand over her traitorous mouth even as she continued to giggle hysterically. The image of _Neil_ – stoic, reticent Neil – and _Andrew_ owning cats with such outrageous names was just too much. After a brief moment of silent horror during which Tabitha was certain she was going to be thrown out of the apartment on her ass, Neil smiled ruefully back at her. 

“They are pretty dumb names,” he said, and just like that the lingering tension between them broke. Tabitha settled back into the couch cushions comfortably, her face still red with laughter. 

“When did you get them?”

Neil’s expression turned uncharacteristically soft and more open than she’d ever seen it. “A few years ago. We were doing an animal rescue PR thing, and we just decided to take them home with us at the end of it.”

Tabitha nodded and tried to contain her excitement at finally having an answer to the question of what they did for work; she wouldn’t have pegged Andrew and Neil as PR people, but she also wouldn’t have guessed that they owned two cats with ridiculous names.

They chatted amiably about pets for a little while before Tabitha finally remembered why she’d come in the first place. 

“Oh! Here are the invitations for the holiday party. It should be fun, and I promise to run interference with Mrs. Miller so she doesn’t ask you a billion questions.”

Neil took the slips of paper from her like they were bombs about to detonate. “I’m not sure we’ll make it,” he said apologetically.

“Are you spending the holidays with your parents then?”

That wary look was back on Neil’s face, and Tabitha felt her own smile falter.

“Andrew and I…” he paused like he was trying to think of the right words. “Neither of us really have much family.”

“Oh.” Tabitha was suddenly unsure of what to say, her Midwestern personality faltering under the awkwardness of the situation. She pasted on her kindest smile. “Well, the party is always a good time. I hope you guys can make it.”

Tabitha was disappointed but not surprised when they didn’t.

Weird stuff started showing up on the sidewalk outside the apartment building sometime in February, everything from teddy bears to flowers and handwritten cards. It almost looked like a memorial of some sort, and there was a distinct rainbow theme to all of the paraphernalia, the bright colors shining through the gray snow and slush of a Chicago winter. 

Tabitha didn’t really notice it at first, but after a few days the pile of stuff had grown so large that it was becoming difficult to navigate around it on the sidewalk. Mrs. Miller and the older residents of the building wrote email chains a mile long as they fought over whether or not to remove the ever-expanding tribute to no-one-knew-what.

Tabitha was staring down at one of the handmade signs, trying to make out the glittery rainbow letters that had been half-washed away by the recent sleet, when Neil and Andrew came up beside her.

“Hey guys,” she greeted. Tabitha had never heard Andrew speak more than a few words at a time, but she liked to think that she and Neil were at least friendly acquaintances. She’d even had him over for tea a couple of times, though Andrew was never with him.

She gestured down at the pile of assorted rainbow-themed items at her feet. “I still can’t figure out what all this stuff is for.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s probably because of us,” Neil said. He looked sheepish as he ran a hand through the hair at the back of his neck, and Andrew made a small, irritated huffing noise beside him.

Tabitha turned to stare at them, dumbstruck. “What?”

“We kind of came out, recently. Publicly.”

“Unintentionally,” Andrew muttered.

“So you are a couple!” Tabitha really, really had not meant to say that out loud. 

Neil looked at her in confusion. “Yeah, why else would we be living together?”

“You don’t really act like a normal couple, I guess?” 

Neil continued to stare at her and Andrew rolled his eyes. “I told you they didn’t know,” the shorter man said in a bored tone. 

“Huh,” was all Neil said in response.

“I have a girlfriend!” Tabitha felt her face flush with embarrassment. “I mean, um, you know, LGBTQ stuff is cool with me.” How did every interaction she had with these men turn into a conversational train wreck?

Neil furrowed his brow. “Okay,” he said finally. He turned to Andrew and said in a quieter voice, “I don’t like people knowing where we live.”

“Our building is really safe, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Tabitha said earnestly. Where would she get her gossip fix from if they moved away? Not to mention the fuss that Mrs. Miller would make. 

Andrew snorted rudely, and Neil elbowed him lightly in the side. “We have some...unique security concerns,” he explained. 

Tabitha only grew more confused; were they actually in the mob after all? Before she could probe for more information, Andrew started to tug Neil down the sidewalk.

“Bye!” Neil called over his shoulder, and Tabitha gave him a weak wave.

She sank down to a squat next to the pile of gifts, and now that she was closer she could clearly see Andrew and Neil’s names scrawled across most of the signs. There were drawings of what looked like lacrosse sticks and stuffed animals dressed in mini sports jerseys reading “Minyard” and “Josten” nestled between bouquets of wilting flowers.

Tabitha practically sprinted back to her apartment and opened her laptop, feeling only a little guilty about invading her neighbors’ privacy as she typed “Andrew Neil gay coming out” into the Google search bar. She was amazed to find the answers she was looking for displayed prominently on the first page of results. 

**Minyard and Josten Engaged; News Shocks Exy Fans**

Tabitha clicked on the news article and was confronted with several unmistakable pictures of Andrew and Neil. They looked different in their uniforms, focused and intense in a way that she hadn’t seen either of them in real life, but it was definitely them. She scrolled through a timeline of their careers, starting when they were both playing for the Palmetto State University Foxes. The article made some vague references to scandals, but didn’t go into any detail. 

When she got to the section that listed their combined accomplishments, Tabitha nearly screamed. Her neighbors were _Olympic gold medalists._ Suddenly Neil’s comment about getting their cats from a PR event made more sense; they weren’t publicists, they were professional athletes. Damn good professional athletes, apparently. 

Tabitha continued to sift through the various search results while she tried to reconcile her previous ideas of the two men in 22B with the apparent reality, only to gasp loudly when she stumbled upon a seedy-looking tabloid article.

**Rookie Exy Star Neil Josten’s Dark Past**

_Neil Josten was revealed last weekend to be Nathaniel Wesninski, son of the late Nathan Wesninski, aka “The Butcher of Baltimore.” The freshman Palmetto State striker was seen being led from his father’s house by FBI agents, with the senior Wesninski now confirmed dead and likely murdered. Photos show Josten, née Wesninski, leaving the hospital with a heavily bandaged face, and a source close to the case confirms that he was present for his father’s suspicious death. Why he chose to abandon his original name is unclear but sources speculate that…_

Tabitha felt slightly sick as she read through the few published details about Neil’s past, and her nausea only grew when she came across a rundown of Andrew’s similarly horrific childhood: foster care, abuse, juvie. Jesus, when Neil had said that he and Andrew didn’t have much family she’d assumed they were simply on bad terms with their parents, not that their home lives read like a bad thriller novel.

Feeling overwhelmed and ashamed of the way that she’d poked into Andrew and Neil’s personal lives, Tabitha closed the laptop and moved it as far away from her as her little apartment would allow, as though distancing herself from the device would somehow erase what she’d seen. She desperately wished that Neil and Andrew could go back to just being the mysterious neighbors. She’d never feel comfortable gossiping about them again, that was for sure.

Tabitha was returning home from another long day at the office when a pretty, conservatively-dressed woman with multi-colored hair stepped into the elevator with her. The woman pressed the button for the 22nd floor and Tabitha looked over at her curiously. The stranger seemed to notice and smiled back at her. “I’m Renee, a friend of Andrew and Neil’s.”

Tabitha flinched involuntarily at the names, but Renee just continued to smile at her with a look of kind understanding on her face. “They can be a bit abrasive if you don’t know them.” She paused before adding, “Or even if you do know them, I suppose.” Her eyes were sparkling with open fondness. 

“No! They’re…” Tabitha flailed around for the right words. “They haven’t been rude or anything!”

Renee gestured for her to continue. 

“I just didn’t know much about them until recently,” Tabitha finished lamely. Renee seemed to understand what Tabitha was trying to say despite her poor attempt at articulating her thoughts, and she nodded sympathetically.

“They do have some unique history.”

That was the understatement of the year, but Tabitha at least had enough tact left not to say it. Instead, she asked, “Have you known them long?”

“Since college,” Renee said, a happy, faraway look on her face. “Their relationship is unconventional, but a joy to witness. I hope they give you a chance to see it for yourself.”

The elevator doors dinged open for her floor before Tabitha had a chance to ask exactly what that meant.

It took years, but Tabitha eventually came to understand what Renee had told her that day in the elevator. Neil and Andrew had the oddest and most private relationship that Tabitha had ever seen up close; if not for their public coming out and subsequent marriage, she still would’ve doubted that they were a couple at all. But as she slowly wiggled her way into their lives over neighborly cups of tea and shared elevator rides, Tabitha came to view them as one of the most stable couples in her acquaintance.

It was something about the way that Neil seemed to produce more emotion from Andrew than anyone else ever could, and how Andrew so obviously doted on Neil in his own weird way. And there were the ridiculously-named cats, who seemed to exist at the center of Andrew and Neil’s universe no matter how hard they tried to deny it. 

Tabitha started going to their Exy games too, after Neil gave her season tickets for Christmas one year. She didn’t care much for the sport itself – the play could be brutal, and she found herself covering her eyes more often than not and praying that Neil and Andrew weren’t getting beat up too badly, as small as they were. When she did manage to keep her eyes open, though, Tabitha saw a fierceness in both of them that was the only real hint she ever got of their violent pasts. It was clear that they were not to be messed with on the court, and the two of them together were simultaneously beautiful and frightening to watch.

Tabitha was never sure if she could really count the two men in 22B as friends, but she was always grateful that she’d had a chance to know them.


End file.
